This is an odd poem with strange structure. I wrote it how I felt inspired to write it.
We keep falling backwards
on all our regrets,
Stepping around rotten petals of past
(a past littered with deafened chords).
Steal my sympathy and use it endlessly
just so nothing will turn us backward-
- to stare at ourselves,
what is the problem inside?
Too much "me".
So this long-term lust bursts forward,
nights of fun become a bore.
Touch the river of doubt,
the one on me you've made current.
Wishing for some kind of forever,
promises rekindle my soul.
Dizzying through dances non-existent anymore,
just begging to feed this flame
one I'm terrified will run out
(during those brisk snowfalls)
-will the sun ever be the same?
Will our insanity keep us burning?
Striving to make sure for us,
Help me write through these lines
So that the spark will crack again,
Make a noise so brittle.
anything amongst anything
- - I know you want this too
Capture lines of tired movies,
Turn over in these stained sheets.
Look at me again with amazement;
astonished by my words
intrigued with every breath
unbelieved that you are here.
What will it take to start you up again?
To miss these lips,
these curves and fingers.
You will when they can no longer reach you
(when fire turns to ice
and summer forgets its time).
So lets not let that happen,
lets create all the lighters needed.
This is what we need to do,
So when the grass is on our skin,
the sweat on our backs won't matter.
